


All That's Left

by LyingTurtle



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Emotional, F/M, Internal Conflict, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyingTurtle/pseuds/LyingTurtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash and Carolina were never that close but now they're all that's left of their team.  Understanding what that means to them leaves a lot to be figured out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the only heterosexual thing I've ever written in my entire life. Life is strange.

The first time you saw her, you were terrified.

Joining project freelancer as one of the youngest members came with its own insecurities, but seeing her walk by with a look that could kill and a body could do it with no problem, well, that was intimidating. In all the time you knew her, there was never a minute when you doubted her ability or her confidence.

Even when the project broke down and you thought there was no way any of you could ever go on, she survived. She survived Tex, she survived the Meta, she survived the director and the crash and whatever the hell happened to her when the project all fell apart.

You knew what happened to you during it all, though you really wished you could forget. There was so much going on in your head, you hadn’t even gotten the chance to notice your whole team falling apart. Except her of course. She would never fall. She could never fall.

But then how did it all come to this? To finding your place with the reds and blues, being a leader, taking care of a team you actually trusted, being the person they looked up to. How did it come to her walking back into your life and taking all your confidence as a leader with her. She wasn't alright, sh wasn't okay by any means, but she was still in charge. She wanted the director dead and she was willing to use any means necessary to do it, but you went along because who were you to say no? She was always in charge of you. But with time, she fell through your fingers, vanishing into thin air. Like always.

The first time you saw her again, you were terrified.

Because when she left with Epsilon you accepted that you may never see her again, or if you did it would only be for a fleeting time before she was off doing something bigger and better. Something more worthy of her skill. You could deal with accepting her absence, you had already accepted the death of so many of your friends. Friends you had planned on making a life together with after the program.

But you saw her, and you realized how terrified you were of this woman because it finally clicked to you. She was all you had left of a program and life that no one else would ever understand. And the thought of losing her was just too much. 

“Wash” she called from the other side of camp, distracting you from your thoughts, “Get over here, I need your help” you picked up your gun and started over without protest.

“Coming Carolina”


	2. Chapter 2

The campfire glistened from where it laid on the ground, surrounded by all the sim troopers, keeping them warm as the night time air fell over Chorus. Of course they had been betrayed. Of course they were now on the run. Of course you were in the middle of it all. It happened every single time, you didn’t know why you had expected any different.

“Carolina” Wash called, coming out from the woods with firewood that he tossed to the troopers. “How do you want to set up look out tonight?”

“I’ll take watch once everyone is asleep”

“I can take part of it too, you need your sleep” you look up at him from where you were sitting, wondering when he had gotten the gile to talk to you so authoritatively like that. He sure wasn’t the same squeaky little kid he came into the project as.

“Alright” you allowed. Getting up you dismissed the rest of the group to bed even though you knew they would stay up a little longer just to spite you. It didn’t bother you as much as it used to. A lot of things didn’t. Maybe it was part of getting older, or maybe it was just part of giving up. You didn’t know but you couldn’t exactly afford to do either at this point. 

Over a small hill in the forest was a sharp incline, leading down to a small pool that glistened with the flickering light of the moon on water. You had checked it out earlier and it seemed clean enough. The suits were made to be worn for long periods of time, complete with waste disposal and liquid absorption, an auto cleaning fiber, and a nice new car smell every time you took it off. But there was nothing compared to being able to actually hydrate your skin and relax in actual fucking water.

“Carolina” Wash called, following you over the ridge like a lost puppy, “Are we going to talk about the plan for tomorrow?”

“We’ve already discussed this, I doubt it’s urgent at this point” you sigh, finding a clean enough log and taking off your helmet, “Epsilon, power down the suit for awhile, alright?” you knew he wouldn’t give you a response, never liking it when he had to go away. Tonight you just needed a minute to yourself though.

“What are you doing?” Wash asked. You could see your reflection in his helmet, your hair had gotten longer and now it ran down over your shoulders. You would need to set it back to regulation when you got the chance.

“I’m taking a fucking break” you didn’t mean for it to sound as angry as it came out. You had that problem a lot. He was confused by this, you already knew he would be. Some things you didn’t need an AI to predict. Your chest armor never felt so heavy as you lifted it over your head and let it splash onto the moist sand. The maintenance you would have to do on that thing later would be extreme but with any luck it would be worth it. “Either leave or watch” you sigh as the last of your armor plating fell into the sand, leaving just your undersuit to be taken care of. He was being brave today and simply turned the other way as you ran the zipper down, peeling your skin away from the mesh fabric. This one you hung carefully on the branch of the log, not even wanting to think about the consequences of missing a piece of sand in cleaning and having it be stuck onto your body skin tight for the next however the fuck long.

“You’ve seen me naked before” you remind him, smiling at his obvious embarrassment from the way he was turned all the way around with his arms folded. Truth be told it had only been once and for a very brief period when the newbie walked into one of the shower stalls being used. After that the ship magically got separated bathroom connecting to the locker room. You guess that your father had found out some how and not approved of anyone seeing his daughter in such a way. It probably didn’t help that everyone could tell from Wash’s embarrassment that he very much liked what he saw. After a brief meeting with the director that he swore he could never tell anyone about if his life depended on it, he gained the reputation given by the ship crew as “the only person to be Lina’s tits and live to tell about it”. You rather liked the title.

“If we were attacked right now you’d be defenseless” Wash somehow figured out the words he wanted to put together in his head.

“So you’re here to protect me?” you couldn’t help but grin, the thought of Wash protecting you. Even while naked you feel as though you would give him and his power armor a run for his money. He sure as hell wouldn’t be focused, that’s for sure.

You step into the water, stifling a sound at the cold and powering through it to finally get all the way in. It was bitterly chilled but somehow it felt like sweet relief on your constantly overworked muscles. The armor felt like a second skin, a heavier, thicker, bullet proof skin. So being without it made you feel completely weightless, especially in the water. It was enough to get you to dunk your head under quickly and then come back and spread out your limbs to float. It was so utterly peaceful to pretend that there was no one hunting you, that no one was trying to kill your team, that your tortured fractured brother of an AI wasn’t a constant reminder of all that you had to escape from, and that the burning question of ‘what are you doing with your life?’ wasn’t plaguing you. It was so easy to just slip away from it all and focus on the chill of the water seeping into your bones.

“Caroline” your eyes snapped open as you heard him dare to call your name. Turning your head you saw him standing at the edge of the water, his helmet off, a cold kind of panic and fear written over his face. “You look dead” you wanted to make fun of him for being so stupid as to think you had died in the two minutes of silence you had been awarded. But a part of you understood and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“I’m alright, David” you sigh, and it’s the most intimate thing you’ve said or done with anyone in months. It wasn’t something you usually allowed yourself to do. It was easy to just put him off in your mind as agent Washington, the rookie, instead of David, the living human being with hopes and dreams that you honestly cared for in some sick way that only you could ever really do.

He nodded and moved away a bit, putting his helmet back on.

“I’ll go check on the reds and blues” he muttered and headed up the steep ridge. Suddenly the cold water and the secluded darkness didn’t feel peaceful or safe. Instead you felt exposed and alone.

You left the water rather quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm going to get to the point with this eventually.

She woke up screaming. This wasn’t the first time either of you had done this.

“Where’s my gun?! Where’s my gun!?” she said frantically, grabbing out for anything she could find, a wild panic in her eyes and sweat beaded on her brow.

“Carolina, stop, you have to calm down” you tried to make sense but she wouldn’t have it. She caught sight of your pistol on your side and made a grab for it. You just barely caught her hand before it reached the tip of the gun. This didn’t make her happy. She began to fight, trying to get out of your grip and away from your hold but it was pointless because she was desperate and only half awake and you had power armor on.

The gun was too dangerous to have on you so you unhooked it and tossed it to the side, quickly moving to catch both her wrists and push her to the ground before she could go after it. You focused in on the effort it took not to break her wrists to try and ignore the cries and pleads that left her lips, begging for god knows what. You heard her mother’s name at some point and it hit something in you. Remnants from Epsilon you guessed, because nothing from him ever felt good. 

Within a minute or maybe two, it was over, and the girl below you was Carolina once more.

“Wash, get off me” she said quietly. She wasn’t angry or upset with you, just tired with herself. You let go of her and leaned off, a sick feeling hitting you when you saw the red marks left on her wrists from you. You didn’t want to do this but you understood the damage that could be done if she got a gun in her hands.

And after all, she had done the same for you multiple times.

Because all too many nights were broken up by the distant sound of wind, only to believe it was a ship crashing down or a fire spreading through the base. There were too many dangerous things and not enough teammates to cover each other. It was just you and her after all.

As much as you liked them, the reds and blues didn’t understand. They supposedly knew most of what had happened to you, but they didn’t understand. They didn’t know what it felt like to be on a spaceship crashing down into earth, or to have things inside of your head go crazy and invade every corner of your mind that you once held sacred. There was no such thing as a safe mind after the AI. Every thought was laced with paranoia and double guessing that it was actually one of your own.

“That’s what I get for sleeping outside of my armor” she laughed bitterly, rubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hand. She had gotten into her undersuit and crawled into her sleeping bag, not wanting the full armor yet that housed Epsilon who was usually in control of her sleep patterns.

“I’m sorry” you say, because you have no idea what else to say and the marks you left still bothered you. She waved you off dismissively, not even registering anything you had done as a problem to her. You decided to get up and retrieve your pistol, not liking the ideas that came to your head of what she would do with it.

“Are the sim troopers up yet?”

“No, it’s barely morning”

“Wake them up, we have to leave soon” she decided, getting up and stretching, making sure nothing of hers was broken. You watched her muscles move beneath the suit, replaying the images in your head of what she looked like underneath it all. You weren’t going to deny that you were attracted to her. There was just always more going on in your mind that ranked as a higher priority. But in moments where the lull of an event left a window of opportunity, you would admit that she had the most perfect body. Ever. Of all time.

She hesitated a moment and then looked back at you. Again the paranoia ran through your mind that Epsilon had fed her your thoughts somehow.

“Were you watching me sleep?” she asked, starting to wonder how you had been there exactly as she had awoken. You didn’t know what to say to that exactly. Somehow saying something like ‘Seeing you float in the water made me think about you being dead and I couldn’t stay away’ or simply ‘yes’ seemed like both equally bad ideas.

“You slept in a convenient lookout position” she raised an eyebrow and glanced around at the heavily covered and well protected area she had chosen to sleep in that was in no way shape or form a good place to keep watch over camp in.

“We really need to work on your observation skills then” and then she walked off to retrieve her armor, no further questions asked. You wondered how you would have ever gotten away with that back in the project. There was no such thing as Carolina letting bullshit fly, even York got himself chewed out more than a few times for his comments.

The only times you ever really talked to Carolina was on or about a mission. She never shared her interests or her past, she never offered up or took in things about other people. She was just always sort of there, watching, waiting, training, always rising through the ranks, working hard for reasons no one could tell you other than to win.

But you knew. You knew when in the brief moments of fusion Epsilon spilled all of his memories out into your mind. You knew what kind of ice cream she liked best, mint chocolate chip. You knew that when she was little she was afraid of the trashcan because she always got her fingers caught in it. You knew how much the director loved her, and how much he forsake her for the addicting misery of mourning the mother Carolina never got to fully have. These sort of thoughts weren’t always at your disposal, sometimes in the moments when it got bad you discovered more hidden throughout your head, but they were always lost in time. It was the only way to cope with it all, forgetting everything.

But not her. Mixing what David and Epsilon knew about Carolina was a recipe for obsession. It was too easy to get lost in watching her, remembering her, making the connections between you and the scars of your AI in the only manner that didn’t hurt you. The only consistent thing that Epsilon carried about her was love and guilt. Guilt for not being a better parent or teacher, for abandoning her in hopes of returning her mother. For not being someone she could turn to when she felt like her life was spiraling out of control.

But David brought in the respect he had for her, the admiration for her skill and devotion. He and Epsilon and the director were all so proud of her. You really wished there would be a time when you could tell her that.

It would be a rough day of moving and scouting and making plans and reorganizing plans. There would be weapons maintenance, armor maintenance, team maintenance, and then if nothing tried to kill you that day, you would hunker down in a strategic position to spend the night.

These were the times when you remembered the project fondly. After a seriously hard day of training, North would make South a special cup of something he called “power juice” it involved a cup of coffee, as many sugar packets that could fit in a hand, three shots of energy drink, and two creams. If South was in a good enough mood for company you would sit with the two of them and North would make you a mug of it as well. It was ungodly awful but special for a reason you could never quite figure out.

In the few and far between moments when you had seen Carolina look worn down, there was always York close behind with a lap for her to lay her head on. Truthfully you had only seen this once, and that was a stressful moment when York rapidly motioned for you to stop talking as to not wake her up and then tiptoe out of the room with all the gentleness of a bomb on the verge of detonating.

But now neither of you had any of that. There would be no more late night training sessions or trading of prohibited goods, no more bets on who would do what in the next mission or even just a simple coded message created to try and beat the observation of the ships overbearing computer. There would never be another meeting between any of them again.

There was no one left.

No one but you and the redhead that had eyes just like her fathers and slept with her knees hugged up to her chest on the ground beside you.

You knew you couldn’t make it a habit of watching over her. But these days when everything just dragged on and on and the only thoughts running through your head was memories, it was nice to have something real and evolving before you. Some evidence that everything wasn’t just some horrible nightmare that you were left alone to deal with in your head. She was still here. And she looked so tired.

“York-” she gasped out, her eyes shooting awake like the room had been lit on fire. Instinctively you reached out and put a hand under her pillow so you could get her gun, but it became evident that she wasn’t going to lose her cool for this one. Sometimes nightmares are just nightmares.

“Hey, it’s alright” you assured her, watching her calm down and blink up at you with eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the forest.

“Do you seriously not understand the concept of keeping watch?” she spat, catching you off guard with how quickly she came back from it all.

“I-... I’ll get back to it” you mutter, reaching behind you to grab your helmet. What you didn’t expect was for her to grab your arm and stop you from leaving.

“I doubt we’ll get ambushed this late. You should get some rest” under normal circumstances you would imagine she would be telling you to go to your own bed roll but her grip hadn’t loosened on your arm.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“I don’t care what you do” somehow you doubted that.

“Could I stay with you?” you proposed, because an invitation to stay from Carolina was a gift from god you felt guilty about wanting.

“As long as you aren’t planning on sleeping in your armor” she let go of your arm tentatively, almost as though she was afraid that you would take off running. You didn’t rush to take off your armor, but it was a relief when it was all finally off. The undersuit wasn’t exactly comfortable or uncomfortable, it just felt like a second skin which made being out in the open a tad awkward.

Carolina rolled to the side of her sleeping bag, allowing you to slip in beside her. Being so close was… strange. Without several layers of protective metal plating between the two of you, you weren’t exactly sure how you should about feel of her body heat against you, much less the places where you actually touched. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you touched someone without armor.

There wasn’t much room between you two. You didn’t know where to put your hands or face or legs or fucking anything. Every part of you was screaming that it was too much but too great to leave all at the same time. You really have no idea how she managed to look so calm.

“Wash, why are you pretending to be a log?” she said, her voice hushed so as to only be shared between the two of you. You didn’t mean to be completely stiff limbed and laying there like a plank, but you really had no idea what else you were supposed to be doing.

“Camoflauge” you whispered back to her, and for a second there was a twinkle in her eye as she couldn’t help but chuckle at the stupidity of your joke. You hadn’t seen her laugh in such a long time. Both you and the corpse of epsilon rejoiced in the sound.

“Just relax” she put a hand on your chest and you melted. She moved your body around like putty to be facing her, an arm under her neck and the other one over her shoulder, your body curled around her tiny frame. She relaxed into you, a soft sigh leaving her lips. Somehow this didn’t feel like Carolina, this girl was smaller than you, not larger than life. There was nothing bloodthirsty in her soft heartbeat, or deadly in her hands that ever so gently squeezed your arm. In the faint forest moonlight, she just looked like a little girl who was oh so tired.

Is that how York felt when he watched her sleep? Is that how the director felt when he tucked her in at night, promising her mommy would be home soon every time she asked. You began to wonder what it was that David was feeling for her.

“Do you ever… miss it all?” she asked, her voice so low you might have guessed she was sleep talking.

“Sometimes” you admitted, knowing innately that she was referring to the project. It was all you both ever really thought about these days after all.

“I miss the beginning, when everything was new, before we got the AI’s”

“Poker night with that god awful thing we called pizza”

“I don’t know what Florida was trying to make! I’m pretty sure he just let bread get stale and put cheese on it!”

“I’m sure he crushed up some rotten tomatoes at one point” you chuckle, because it was so easy to just think back to when everyone was friends. When everyone didn’t mind the scoreboard so much. When everyone was still alive.

“I loved watching the twins bicker, South was such a bitch but she was hilarious with North”

“Yeah” you muttered, the image replaying in your mind of shooting South in the face, staring down at North’s dead body. It didn’t seem real. She was quiet for a very long time, so long that you thought she may have fallen to sleep, but instead she decided to speak again, this time with pain in her voice.

“I miss my dad” she knew that you had memories of her, of her mother, of what her father was like. She had to have known how much pain it caused you to hear her say that.

“He loved you so much, all the way to the end”

“No. The director wasn’t my father, my dad died the day they brought my mom home in a coffin” you could tell how hard it was for her to say it. Sadly you both knew it was true.

You didn’t ask her what was going on in her head when you felt water pool on your arm when it fell from her eyes. You didn’t need to. You had those nights too. And so you waited until you felt her relax and sink into sleep, making sure she was safe from the monsters in her head.

You waited till she was completely gone before you leaned closer to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek covered in that beautiful fire red hair.  
There was no one left to judge you after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not long to go now, next chapter will have a bit more references to what's actually going on in the series and not just between the two of them. The next one also shouldn't be months late hahaha...

There wasn’t much time to think about what was going on in your head. You didn’t have time to stop and ponder what exactly compelled you to keep Wash beside you, there was a war going on that needed you.

And good god did they need you.

Everyone on Chorus was being betrayed left and right. By the time you finally got your team back in one place you realized that so much had changed that you didn’t even know where to stand. The reds and blues were stronger without ever having really changed. Now you questioned yourself. Had you grown stronger? Had you changed at all? How were you supposed to keep up with these people when you could barely keep yourself together?

Epsilon tried to help. It was nice to have him close. But it wasn’t the same, there was only so much he could do for you when you didn’t even know what you wanted.

There was something you wanted though. And you were pretty sure he wanted you too.

Because now there were high level enemies out there, not just the run of the mill operative soldiers. They were dangerous, and they were out for blood. Even with the reds and blues getting better, they still weren’t ready to handle these new threats.

But you and Wash were.

You and Wash had been waiting for this.

When you reunited, it was unceremonious in that everyone just saw two comrades who talked in the same language, staying professional for the sake of formality. But in the evening when you were both afforded the safety of being able to remove your armor, and the luxury of civilian clothes, you both found your way to the tallest water tower and sat with your legs hanging off the edge, barefoot and free.

You hadn’t realized how much you had forgotten about Wash. But seeing him now in a gray T-shirt and dark cargo pants that didn’t hide his lean body behind bulky equipment made you seriously wonder how every female attendant on the Mother of Invention hadn’t fallen for him. He was cute to say the least, with his freckles and warm brown eyes, the way his hair was a natural mix of blonde and brown. It made you want to pinch his face and mess up his attempts at controlling his helmet hair.

He liked to follow you around. He liked it when you called him David and when you punched him in the shoulder for making a stupid comment. He liked to stare at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

And you liked it too. Because you knew who you were in his eyes. You were agent Carolina, the badass of project Freelancer who threw a plane at a guy with a flamethrower. You were strong and reliable. You were everything you needed to be and more.

It made you feel like you didn’t have to change.

But it was a double edged sword. Because he was changing now too, growing stronger, being more reliable. He wasn’t agent Washington anymore, he was just a man with a bad past who had found where he belonged and people who needed him. He was getting weaker in all the right ways. He was letting people in, he was letting things go, and despite your best intentions you were jealous beyond all reason.

So you told yourself it was enough to sit there on the water tower and look out over the camp, talking mindlessly about whatever it was that needed to be discussed, and then rambling about things neither of you were too invested in. But it was just good to hear his voice. It was good to just put down your guard and let someone in.

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I brought home a pet?” you asked, the conversation having turned to addressing how “Freckles” came to join your team.

“Oh yeah” David laughed, something pure and honest as he recalled the story, “It was the new house and you decided your bathtub would be a pond. You brought back every frog you could find in the creek and put them in the tub. God there must have been thirty of them all trying to jump out and get into the rest of the house. I made you let them all go and you were so mad you didn’t speak a single word for days”

You paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to correct him. You had never told him that story. It was hard to remember sometimes that he knew more about your life than he let on. Maybe it was the reason he always clung to you. You really hoped it wasn’t.

The intercom rang out that curfew was approaching and so Wash instinctively got up to leave.

You didn’t think about your words before posed the question.

He seemed confused to say the least by the connotation it came with.

After all most people don’t usually ask their friends to spend the night with them.

But Wash tried to make no show he considered the other meaning and agreed. You were relieved and nervous at the same time. It was just that the thought of going back to your room alone, without Epsilon and without soldiers on your heels, it scared you. It scared you a lot.

Your room wasn’t much, but you weren’t expecting it to be. The fact that you got your own private quarters already put you in the lap of luxury. Wash had opted to sleep in the bunk rooms with the reds and blues. You hadn’t even considered that was an option. It made you feel a tad stupid honestly.

Though you suppose in these cases, it was better that you had your own space. You didn’t know how Wash dealt with the nightmares around the others, you thought it was impossible that he would have stopped having them. Lord knows you hadn’t.

“I like what you’ve done with the place” he says, staring at a spot on the wall dented with the obvious shape of a fist.

“Someone put a wall in my way” you mutter, because you really had no explanation for that other than reckless emotions.

“I’m sure they’ll learn” you go to where a curtain covers the small room that serves as your bathroom and turn on the water for the shower. That was one thing you were relieved by, this planet never seemed to run out of water and so things like showers were actually allowed.

He jokes that you have an obsession with taking off your clothes in front of him.

He realizes what he said before you can even turn around and begins on a long tangent concerning Tucker and bad habits and apologizing but in some backwards tripping over his own words kind of way.

He’s scared out of his mind.

You ask him if he’d like to join you.

Now he’s really terrified.

“I’m not asking you to jump into a bed of snakes” you look over your armor sitting in the corner. Epsilon didn’t come out screaming when you asked, you assume he shut himself off to conserve power while you were away.

“I-” he chokes out. You turn back to the shower and ignore him, peeling the shirt that’s too big for your shoulders over your head. You’re taking off your sports bra when you hear him walk over and toss his shirt onto the ground.

He’s not asking why you want this. He’s not questioning your motives. He just rolls with what you want. You appreciate that.

“Close your eyes” you instruct him.

“What? For how long?”

“The whole time”

“Why-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you slip” he has his eyes closed when you turn back to him, a sort of embarrassed look on his face.

You take him by the shoulders and walk him into the shower in front of you, telling him when to take a little step at the ridge of the shower.

He’s putty in your hands. You don’t know exactly why you made him close his eyes, it just felt less strange this way. There’s a bottle of soap in the shower and you rub it into your hands before you run it through his hair, messing it up like you wanted.

You have to stand on your toes a little to reach him well. You aren’t sure how you feel about that. Being close to him now you can feel how different his body was from yours. Even though you were never petite and he was never buff, there was just the simple difference in shoulder broadness and curves. You could throw him from one side of the room to the other in training. You think you still could now. But you couldn’t remember the last time you actually fought without armor on, it makes you wonder if the fight would be so one sided if you were to fight him like this.

The thought that he might actually be able to pin you down is an infuriating one. You knead your fingers through his hair a bit too hard because of it.

“Ow, Carolina that hurts”

“Don’t be a baby” you snap and he shuts up. You pull his head forward to let the stream of water hit his hair and wash the soap out. You feel a hand slide up your side, rolling over your hip and up towards your chest. For a moment you weren’t sure if it was actually his because it was such a brave venture.

But it was soft and gentle and it deftly avoided touching more than just the side of your breast, so it was most definitely Wash.

“I thought I said to keep your eyes shut” you warn him.

“I’m not looking” He takes a step closer to you and you find your back against the tile. His other hand is on your thigh, his thumb drawing slow circles in your skin. He’s too close. You feel his chest press onto yours, his head resting on your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. 

It was too much. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been so close to someone else. It didn’t matter that it was Wash, the fact that someone else’s heat was radiating onto your skin was driving you crazy. Not in some horny lust daze, but in the way someone in the desert would cling to every drop of water they could get, and to you, Wash was an oasis.

“Carolina, what do you think of me?” he asked out of the blue. You didn’t know quite how to answer that.

“I think you’re my subordinate” he scoffed at that, you ask him why he thought that was so funny.

“Because I’ve never met anyone so out of touch with themselves” you aren’t sure if you should take insult to that. You do anyways. “You don’t know how to feel about me because you don’t know if you’re ready to change” there was an argument on your lips but it died as he opened his eyes and his gray eyes met your green ones, “But you have changed. And now I don’t know how to feel about you either”

“I don’t think it’s all that complicated” you mutter, “Neither of us want to be alone” but you think to how he acts, how it is he’s integrated himself into a new group where people give him more respect and are more loyal than anyone in Freelancer could be to each other.

He found his place.

You just don’t know where yours is.

“I’m afraid you’ll leave me” it’s a whisper on your lips that you weren’t sure you should say. The thought was as new to you as it was to him. Suddenly you’re shaking because you understand, he’s not just all that’s left of Freelancer, he’s your only friend, the only one you can rely on. He’s perfectly able to leave you but you can’t leave him.  
Your body begins to tremble at the thought and you know your face is just a mess of fear and pleading

“I would never leave you Caroline” the firmness in his voice is enough to make your breathing lose its rhythm.

You let him cup the side of your face with his hand.

You let him lean in to kiss you.

You let him push you gently into the wall more and relish in the way your bodies fit together. You run your hand down his chest and stroke him once, making his whole body tremor. He gets harder in your hand and so you repeat your motion, running your thumb over the head and making him outright gasp. You suppose it’s been a long time for him.

He moves his mouth down onto your neck, kissing gently, his breath sending shivers down your back. He runs his teeth lightly across your collarbone as he’s kissing you down and you find it hard not to make a sound. You suppose it’s been a long time for you too.

He asks a dirty question breathlessly, knowing you far too well to just do whatever he wants. You suppose years of following your orders wouldn’t just be so quickly forgotten. That almost makes you excited.

“I’ll let you try it out just once” you say it as a joke but you can’t help but feel a little intimidated by the predatory glint in his eye as he looked up at you, the excitement behind them burning like a wildfire. He keeps his eyes on you while he kisses down your stomach, hands sliding up your thighs, short nails dragging on your skin. He gets down to his knees and while you miss his body against yours but now the spray is running over your neck and chest which ignites the 

His mouth is hot and teasing as it refuses to go lower and you can’t help but move your hips to get closer to him. 

He likes this very much, and he shows his encouragement with his tongue running over your clit slow and methodically as though he were taking care of delicate equipment. You find that David is very much a fan of your thighs pressed tightly against his head because you can feel his nails as he pulls you tighter against him. It would have been the perfect opportunity to make fun of him in some way if you weren’t distracted by his attempt to what must be write the alphabet over your sex.

There are sounds leaving your lips you would never in a million years guessed Wash would be the one to drag out of you. There’s just something about his willingness to please and his excitement over your every move that’s as much of a catalyst to you as it is to him.

Your thighs feel like burning embers with the way he’s been scratching you with his dull nails. But it’s good in that it makes you feel as though your body is alive with heat both inside and out. You’re glad he isn’t afraid of being rough with you because you find yourself tugging sharply on his hair as a winding feeling coils through you. He moans against you and the vibrations throw you over the threshold, arching your back and choking back a gasp as everything is just released in your body.

When you breathe again you’re dimly aware that he’s moved off of you and instead gotten up to his feet, his fingers splayed out on your hips while he looks down at you with lust burning deep in his eyes. He seems on the edge of losing his mind and you can’t help but find it endearing in some way.

“Can I?” he breathed. You feel the tip of his erection against your sensitive skin but you know he won’t go further without your permission. He’s tearing at the seams and you can see it in his eyes how must he wants to just push your knees to your chest and take you, but he still waits. He’s more focused on you than himself, and for a second you think maybe you want to keep him waiting so you can relish in this feeling of love and trust. But you’ve always been bad about spoiling him.

“Yes”

He goes slowly, letting you adjust. You feel him inside you and decide you like it. You like the shower that has turned from warm to a refreshing cold, you like the feeling of his chest against yours, you like everything about this moment because you can forget all the war and loss. For this moment you can pretend you’re back on the MOI having some secret rendezvous. Not that you would have ever slept with the rookie then, but now, well, now he’s the closest thing this planet has to a veteran.

You bury your face in his broad shoulder, water cascading your hair down your body and his as his muscles ripple with slow movement. You lift a leg to his side and he grabs it, thrusting in deeper and earning a gasp from your lips. Again you realize, everything is perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter everyone! Don't know if I'll write more of this pairing, if people like it enough I might though it's considered sort of a crack ship I suppose. Either way, I love these two and their dynamic, I feel like it's never done enough even if it takes a bit of headcanon to fill in the blanks.

Everything is wrong.

You fucked up. You fucked up big time. You have no idea what compelled you to actually go through with your feelings for Carolina but now here you are, in deep shit. The worst part is that she has no idea how badly you’re fucking up.

You were stupid to think that this “David mind” would hold out forever. It lasted so much shorter than that. When you woke up in her bed your head was swimming with memories of the director. You felt sick to your stomach, you were in actual pain with how much confliction was going on in your body.

The director washing her fire red hair in the bath as she played with a toy.

David fucking her against a wall with that same color rolling down over her breasts.

Both memories trying to share the same head at once was impossible to bear. You felt like you betrayed her, like you were the kind of filth you’d gladly beat into a pulp. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t convince yourself that you were both willing and consenting and non related adults. 

You weren’t there when she woke up. You just couldn’t be.

There was a glimmer of hope for you regaining your sanity as you found yourself alone on the water tower, catching a few moments of peace to overlook the compound before it buzzed to life with drills and routines. It was peaceful enough for you to breathe. At least until a blue hologram AI decided to pop up at your side. You had brought your helmet with you in case someone tried to radio you in but it sat at your side where you didn’t think it would bother you.

“Epsilon? Did you hijack my suit?”

“Well you left it laying on the fucking floor while you fucked my sister, so I figured it was up for grabs” he does not sound happy. You couldn’t think of a single reason he would be.

“Were you spying on us?”

“You two didn’t even ask if I had powered down! You guys are paranoid about literally everything that moves on this goddamn planet but you don’t even think to ask ‘hey church you awake?’ Just wanted to check before we start fucking in the shower and traumatize the hell out of you!’”

“Sorry” you sigh because you just aren’t ready to argue.

“Yeah, you and me both. You know these things measure stress in case you go into shock and die right? I know you’re a complete wreck right now. Which, I can’t say I have a lot of sympathy for considering you deserve it. I mean what were you thinking? When did you start liking Carolina?”

“Never, well, always… Look I don’t know! I care about her”

“Yeah, I care about her too but you don’t see me trying to turn her codpiece into a vibrator or anything” you wince at just how comically crude he’s being. Obviously angry enough to bypass any kind of small filter he had.

“We care about her in different ways”

“Not as much as you probably think. I know you still have memories from, well, me I guess. You know things about her that she didn’t tell you, you have memories and feelings and emotions that aren’t yours. But that doesn’t mean you can just ignore them, though you’re probably figuring that out now. I know you’re confused but your head is a mess Wash” he sounded almost concerned for you now. You decided that you were more comfortable with him just being angry.

“She’s just…” she’s just a little girl who puts frogs in bathtubs, she’s a teenager who didn’t have a mother and who barely had a father in her life, she’s a soldier trying to undo the mistakes she let someone she loved and trusted lead her into making. “She’s all that’s left”

The last heir to a cursed dynasty. The last man standing on a long fought over battlefield. The last thing holding you back from putting yourself back together.

The realization hits you like a trainwreck. It wasn’t that your head was too crowded with the director’s memories, epsilon’s scars, and David’s fragile mind. It was that all three of them were trying to focus on this one point with different love’s. You couldn’t handle thinking of Carolina as the precious daughter, beloved sister, and beautiful woman and friend all at the same time.

But she was the only thing all three minds had in common.

She was all that was left keeping David from getting back what the project took from him.

“Look, I don’t care what you do, but you understand what’s at stake here if the two of you get distracted with this weird new aspect to your relationship. We’re fighting a war, not playing matchmaker, and-” he was hesitating, trying to get you to understand he really meant what he was saying, “She’s just started smiling again. I didn’t know if we’d ever get that part of her back but, we did. So please just... don’t ruin that” and then he disappeared back into your helmet, obviously still running but not willing to talk to you anymore. 

You didn’t mind. You had a lot of things you needed to think about yourself.

Getting up, you put the helmet under your arm and started climbing down the water tower. The answer was right there in front of you, it would be so easy. You didn’t even have to do it suddenly, you could slip away once this war was over. Who knows what you would be able to get back? You could even go back to civilian life.

That was a weird concept to even consider. But really, it might be the way you have to go if you have any intention of getting your mental stability back. With enough time and help, the fragments could possibly even be healed, and then you could start over.

Buy an apartment in the city, get a cat or two, maybe go back to school and see what became of the little family you had before. Then eventually you could bring in Tucker, see if what worked for you worked for him, see if the rest of the blood Gulch crew followed you into your new civilian life.

The camp was beginning to come to life now, the few early risers coming out without their armor on in an attempt to get some sun. You tried to see them all as common people, rising early to go grocery shopping or go to work or do something other than fight a war. Just ordinary people who weren’t plagued by nightmares of what lay in the darkest pits of their own government and military. They wouldn’t wake up screaming. They wouldn’t have anything to scream about.

Suddenly this war seemed so close to over. It felt like right on the edge of the horizon was a morning where you’d worry about whether or not you had fresh milk in the fridge instead of whether someone would shoot you that day.

You passed by the bunkers of the Reds and Blues, a twinge of urgency in your chest. They were strong because they had each other, but they weren’t invincible. They barely made it out the last time they were separated. If they came with you then you could help them get better along with you. You could rely on them to keep you strong, to keep you put together. Maybe Tucker would get along with your cats, if so then you might be able to survive living with him. Between him and Caboose there was no contest though.

Stopping by your locker, you put your helmet inside of it along with your armor. You weren’t ready to suit up just yet. You weren’t ready to end this fantasy life in your head.

“Ten more minutes” Tucker groaned, half his limbs hanging off the top bunk, eyes still closed and mouth ajar.

“Alright” you say without any hesitation or disappointment in your voice.

“Dammit fine” he grumbled, swinging his legs over the edge and sitting up, about to slide off. “Wait, what?” he questioned, unfortunately sliding off the bed by accident and stepping on Caboose’s head as he tried not to fall.

“Church! Ah Church did you miss me?!” Caboose said sleepily, wrapping his ridiculously strong arms around Tucker.

“Get the fuck off me! I’m not even a computer!” Tucker protested, kicking and punching to no avail. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you walked out, imagining a life where that was the normal and not just a sparse moment in between disasters.

There wasn’t much light that got into the cave, but the natural air ducts and openings were only so hidden so patches of sun like polka dots shone down onto the rocky ground. It made you think of your own childhood when you would fall asleep on the carpet of your home with the cat, basking in the summer light shining in. That was the life you could have again, the one you could get back by just cutting one aspect out of your life.

But there was a problem. The problem had walked out into the clearing, her hair down for once and laying brilliantly along her shoulders, shirt untucked, expression not composed. She was looking around nervously, looking for something. No, looking for someone. Your heart stopped for a moment so it could send a shooting pain through your body. She must have thought you ran away. In truth perhaps you had.

The light caught the color of her hair, reminding you of how vibrant it used to be when she stayed awake late training on the MOI, when she was a starting soldier at the top of her class, when she was refusing to let you know who she was going to prom with, when she tried to dye her hair blonde in that one awful middle school attempt, and when she had been handed to you in a blanket, squirming and wriggling and undeniably precious. She had always been precious.

And it hurt not only because she destroyed your fantasy life, but also because she could never leave this life. She couldn’t go back to civilian life, she would never stop having the nightmares, she would never stop needing that armor. Because unlike you, there wasn’t something holding her back. Her mind wasn’t being torn apart by all these leftover voices, this was just who she was. She wasn’t changing anymore and you both knew it. She would keep putting on that armor till someone put a bullet through it.

Looking at her here though, it didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense that she could look so lost and scared, so fragile and small. To get your life back together would mean to give her up. It would mean leaving her to this life, to eventually die alone on this battlefield, to finally let someone beat her and not give her the chance to get back up. But you didn’t have to be there for that. You didn’t have to go into battle beside her, you could have a life, you could find a way to make your last moments surrounded by friends and maybe even one day, family. It didn’t have to be with her. It didn’t have to all be about her. But if it didn’t then why did it hurt so badly?

Maybe it was the director's failure as a father, or Epsilon’s failure to protect her, or maybe this was all you, all David, realizing that be it friend or lover, you were going to fail her too.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to hide just how upset you were by this thought. It wasn’t fair, you shouldn’t have to make this choice. You loved her, in every sense in the word you loved her, in every way and shape that it could take it was how you felt. Brilliant and disgusting and painfully contradictory. But that wasn’t how she saw you. She saw her partner, in every sense of the word. If you could just be that, if it could just be that simple, then you would have a chance to put your mind back together.

But it wasn’t easy when she just looked so small as she moved through patches of light, not hiding behind anything as she was desperate to find you. This was her, unchanging and beautiful. A flash of fire that would burn until someone snuffed it out by force. She was the difference between a house and a home. She drew the line between living and existing. She was everything you wanted to be and was ashamed to be like.

She was all that was left of a purpose in your life.

“Wash?” she called out. You hadn’t realized you had been spotted, standing there staring at her. Uncertainty was written on her face, a thousand questions of what was going on inside your head obviously running through hers. You had left her, and she wanted to know what that meant. She wanted to know if you would be the next person to leave her.

But you wouldn’t be that person. You knew you would be there till the end, till she fell on that battlefield. It would be David who’d correct the mistakes her family made. David would always be the one to wake her up from her nightmares, to hold her until you could both pretend it would be alright. David would be the one to cover her from gunfire, the one to stop the people who could possibly beat her. It would be you, always there, changing and growing but not moving from the fixed point of space that was her future.

You would do right by her. Whether it was right or wrong thing to do, you had to try. She deserved someone to who would try for her. After all, you were the only one left.

“Coming Carolina”


End file.
